


sit with you in the trenches

by mikaylawrites



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28038897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikaylawrites/pseuds/mikaylawrites
Summary: "What he loves about Donna, what he’s loved about her since before he was allowed to call it that, is that she gets in the hole with him."A quiet moment in a busy week.
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Donna Moss
Comments: 15
Kudos: 104





	sit with you in the trenches

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a long-time West Wing fan, but a first time writer for this fandom. This is the result of my most recent rewatch and wishing we could've had more established relationship moments with these two. Title comes from Taylor Swift's "Peace."

Josh scrubs a hand across his face, looking down at his laptop and the contents of the folder spread across the coffee table. He attempts to stretch out the kink in his neck, but it’s no good. His shoulders are clenched up to his ears, the rest of his body just as tightly wound. They’re gearing up to roll out the next phase of the President’s education plan and it feels like they’re working against the clock. Glancing at his watch, he sees that it’s nearly eleven. It’s late, he thinks, and then snorts at the thought. Not so long ago he probably would still have been at the office at this time, maybe just beginning to consider heading out if it was a light workday. But tonight Donna had knocked on his door promptly at seven, ushering him home despite his protests.

He feels guilty now, staying up to work after Donna has gone to bed. It’s only been two days since she returned from a trip to Salt Lake City with the First Lady and he’s been too busy for them to spend any real quality time together. She’d practically had to drag him out of the office tonight, and although he’d done his best to enjoy the dinner they made together and the episode of _Mad Men_ they’d watched on the couch afterward, his head is still in the west wing. He’s been buzzing for days with the familiar, relentless urge to _get this done_. Josh used to take pride in his ability to work himself to the bone; tonight it’s more annoying than admirable. There’s nothing he wants more than to crawl in bed beside his fiancée, but there’s no way his mind will rest until this is finished. Sighing, he puts on the reading glasses Donna had insisted he needs (“You’re not supposed to get a headache any time you read something, Joshua. Besides, they make you look distinguished. And sexy.”) and tries to focus on the words in front of him.

He’s not sure how much time has passed when he hears the creak in the floorboard that tells him Donna is coming down the hall. “Josh?” Before he can respond she’s behind him, her hand on his shoulder. “It’s late.”

There’s no accusation in her tone, but he feels a little chastened anyway. “I’m almost done,” he says. “Go back to bed.”

She doesn’t, instead coming around to the front of the couch. Her hair is pulled back haphazardly, and her eyes are a little bleary. Another pang of guilt gnaws at his stomach as he imagines her rolling over in her sleep and reaching for him, only to find the sheets cold. She drops into his lap, her chest flush against his, and winds her arms around his neck.

“Go back to bed, sweetheart,” he says again, softer this time.

Donna shakes her head, her chin resting on his shoulder. “I’ll sit with you until you’re done.”

“You really don’t have to. I promise I won’t be much longer.”

“Then it won’t be a big deal for me to sit with you for a few minutes while you finish,” she counters.

It’s hard to argue with the prospect of finishing his work with a sleepy Donna pressed against his body. He picks up the last report in the folder with one hand, stroking her back with the other. Donna sets to work too. She brushes her lips against the spot below his ear that always makes him shiver and proceeds to trail a line of slow, warm kisses down his neck. There’s no real intention behind it, just a desire for nearness.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Donatella,” he teases, hoping to get a rise out of her. She huffs a laugh into his shoulder but doesn’t take the bait. Her mouth stills at the crook of his neck, her breath warming his skin. The hair from her ponytail tickles his nose, but he doesn’t mind. He inhales the soothingly familiar scent of her lavender shampoo and feels his muscles loosen ever so slightly.

An easy silence spreads between them as Josh scans the report. It’s barely five minutes before Donna’s breath begins to even out, and soon she’s asleep completely. Josh continues to rub her back while he reads, leaning his cheek against the top of her blonde head.

He knows exactly what this is, knows that she’s noticed his nervous energy, his absentmindedness. While Donna understands the job better than almost anyone, she doesn’t let him kill himself over it. Josh puts in the effort too - he’s back in therapy, he’s learning to delegate - but there are still times when his neurotic industriousness digs him into a hole. What he loves about Donna, what he’s loved about her since before he was allowed to call it that, is that she gets in the hole with him.

His mind is quieter now that she’s breathing against him. It doesn’t take long to make a final pass through all the information he needs for tomorrow. He could easily pore over the reports for another hour if he let himself, but he decides to call it a night if for no other reason than he wants Donna to sleep in their king-sized bed rather than on his bony shoulder. Running his hand more firmly up her back, he shakes her gently. “C’mon sleeping beauty, time for bed.”

“Mmmm.” She makes no move to get off his lap.

Josh laughs. “All right then, hang on.” He slides his hands under her thighs and she tightens her arms around his neck. With an embarrassingly loud grunt, he pushes them both up off the couch. His chest tightens with affection at the way she runs her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck as he carries her down the hall. After settling her beneath the duvet, he moves to the en suite to brush his teeth.

“Did you finish the thing?” Donna calls from their bed.

Josh leans in the doorway so he can look at her while they talk. She’s propped up on one elbow, fighting to keep her eyes open, and he smirks around his toothbrush. “Not quite, but I decided it can wait. Someone once told me that I can’t do my best work unless I get a good night’s sleep.”

“She sounds very wise,” Donna yawns.

“I never said it was a she,” he replies, before turning to spit and rinse his mouth. Coming back into the bedroom, he strips down to his boxers and crawls into bed. “It could’ve been anyone. Maybe it was Otto.”

Donna hums happily despite his ribbing and curls herself around him like a cat. He knows he has about two minutes before she’s asleep again. “Now that I think about it, it might have been you.”

“You think?”

“Yes. You are wise,” he says, kissing her head. “And beautiful. And I love you.”

“I love you too. Now quit talking and go to sleep.”

“Yes ma’am.” He dutifully settles beside her, pulling more tightly against him. With her warm skin on his bare chest, he is truly still for the first time in days and everything is soft and quiet and good.


End file.
